HP/LOTM: Visionary - 423

Chapter 423: The Order Gathers, A Prophecy Overheard

After finishing his exchange of intelligence with his future self, Tom Riddle immediately issued an order: the Prewetts were to be eradicated at all costs.

Within hours, Dark wizards across Britain were on the move, ferreting out any hint of the ancient pure-blood family’s address.

As Voldemort’s old enemies, the Order of the Phoenix heard the news just as quickly. In a house in Hogsmeade, Dumbledore sat with the Order, discussing what to do.

"At this stage, the best thing we can do is hide the two of you," Lupin said, looking down the long table at Fabian and Gideon.

"You must be joking. Have you ever known a Prewett to sit out a fight?" Gideon said, slapping his palm on the wood.

"It is just hiding. Something has set Voldemort off. And Gideon, your child has just been born," Lupin said, changing tack when a direct appeal failed.

At the mention of his wife and daughter, Gideon’s expression softened for a heartbeat. Then it hardened again.

"Exactly because my child has been born, I cannot run. I will not let her grow up under Voldemort’s rule," he said.

"Fabian, help me out here," Lupin said, trying another angle.

"A Prewett dies on his feet, not on his knees," usually easygoing Fabian said. For once, he showed the same fierce will, as if he might charge off to die, taking Voldemort with him at any moment.

"Very well. But at least let us hide your wife and child," Dumbledore said.

"Do not worry. The family home is under the Fidelius Charm. The Secret-Keeper is someone we would all trust with our lives," Gideon said.

Dumbledore nodded. For now, there was nowhere in Britain safer than a Fidelius Charm that had already been blooded in battle.

"Then, to the second point. Tom’s recent moves…" Moody, whose nose was still intact in those days, spread out the reports he had collected.

"A weapon, was it? What kind of weapon?" Sirius asked, interest piqued.

Moody’s notes contained interrogation transcripts from the Death Eaters the Ministry had recently captured. Barty Crouch, then Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, had authorised Aurors to use the Unforgivable Curses.

That rare moment of sense had let the floundering Ministry stiffen its spine and drag in quite a few Death Eaters. Before they were shipped off to Azkaban, each of them had been dosed with Veritaserum.

One of them, a Death Eater named Yaxley, had a higher rank than most. It was from him that they had obtained this vital piece of information.

"My guess is that the weapon Tom wants to build is tied to the Department of Mysteries. He has turned one of their people," Dumbledore said, adding his own intelligence.

"So we storm in and stop them now?" young Sirius said, eager for a fight.

"And where would we storm?" Moody said dryly. Faced with that much raw energy, he could only roll his eyes.

“For the next stage, we need to keep gathering information. We cannot crash headlong into a clash with Tom. That will only bleed us dry. And you, Gideon, Fabian, you must be careful,” Dumbledore said.

He rose, signalling the end of the meeting.

"Oi. Fancy a drink at the Three Broomsticks?" Sirius said at once, catching James and Lupin by the sleeves.

"No. I want to talk to Fabian and Gideon again," Lupin said. He was the responsible adult among them and could not quite rest easy.

"Eon, they are Prewetts. Dragon-blooded, born for war. You really think they are the ones in danger? Shouldn’t it be the Death Eaters praying they never run into them?" Sirius said, thumping Lupin in the chest as he dragged him toward the door.

……

Elsewhere, Dumbledore had his own business to see to after the meeting. Hogwarts’ Divination professor had retired. He needed to interview a new one.

He stepped into a Floo in the castle and came out into an abandoned Muggle house in a gust of ash and soot, his arrival kicking up a fresh cloud of dust. The flare of green caught the attention of someone hiding inside.

Dumbledore opened the hearth grate, cleaned himself off with a flick of his wand and went out. Because he was in the Muggle world, he let his guard down and did not sweep for other magical presences. He did not know that the street where his new professor lived was called Spinner’s End.

He walked up to a small, shabby house and knocked on the door. At the same time, another uninvited guest eased a window open, listening intently.

"Good evening, Miss Trelawney," Dumbledore said, taking a seat.

The woman opposite him was Sybill Trelawney, great-granddaughter of the great seer Cassandra Trelawney.

"Good evening, Headmaster," she said.

She had none of the fluttering, overdramatic air she would show in the future. Right now, she was just an ordinary witch, heir to her family’s lore.

She poured Dumbledore a cup of tea, and they began to talk about Divination. With her background, she could field every one of his questions with ease.

Then the Sea of Collective Subconscious shivered, like a string being plucked.

"Miss Trelawney, could you make a prophecy for the future of our world?" Dumbledore asked.

Her brows drew together. The Sea of Collective Subconscious seized her channels for magic. It felt as if countless beings were trying to squeeze through her throat. When she spoke, her voice was hollow and distant.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born as the seventh month dies. Born to those who have thrice defied him…"

The moment the prophecy began, Severus Snape vaulted away from the window. Only then did Dumbledore sense him, but he could not chase after him yet. He had to hear this through.

"The Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not. One of them must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives…"

When it ended, Trelawney doubled over, coughing, then blinked in confusion.

"Oh. I am so sorry, Headmaster. Did I say something just now?"

"Nothing of note. You are hired," Dumbledore said.

He tossed a letter onto the table and Disapparated in pursuit of the eavesdropper.

Back in the house, the Head of the Department of Mysteries slipped a crystal ball into his bag as if it were his own, opened the door, and walked out. Two dragons padded after him. Trelawney did not notice any of it.

"All right. Where to now?" the Director asked, turning to the two walking catastrophes behind him.

"Probably to stop Tom. And get a closer look at what he is like in this era," Arthursi said with a shrug.

"Yay. Baby Aiden," Lada said, face bright with excitement.

"Fine. Good luck. And do not cause any major disruptions to this timeline," the Director said, suddenly stern.

"Such as?" Arthursi asked, playing dumb.

"Do not turn into dragons in the middle of a crowd. Do not let too many people see you exist."

With that, the Director turned on his heel and walked away.